Classic poem of the day
There's a path that leads to Nowhere
In a meadow that I know,
Where an inland island rises
And the stream is still and slow;
There it wanders under willows
And beneath the silver green
Of the birches' silent shadows
Where the early violets lean.
Other pathways lead to Somewhere,
But the one I love so well
Had no end and no beginning --
Just the beauty of the dell,
Just the windflowers and the lilies
Yellow striped as a......
Member poem of the day
If it lasts it must have merit,
or is it just a chimera?
Mountain tops inspiring,
cryptic lines that vanish in,
some moth infested haze,
Boulevards adored by,
budding artists whose,
mocha fuel creations stray off point,
Mother Earth obsessives as,
they press their rosy vision,
into silver clay mosaics,
tune smiths in a crisis,
over windy forest musings,
booker listed rising tide without rhyme,,
penmen stifled by their own o...
